English Rose
by Coco Cobarra
Summary: When Layla finds herself in a tug-of-war between a relationship with her fellow English native, Wade Barrett, and a long-time friendship with Michelle McCool, she struggles with making compromises before ultimately making a decision.
1. The Wrong Room

Layla and Michelle emerged through the curtains, feeling the taste of victory from their latest tag team match on Friday Night SmackDown. On screen, they were looking cool and smug about their win but as soon as they were out of the crowd's sight, they were as giddy as school girls. They jumped around while hugging each other, not caring about the amused looks of the crewmembers backstage.

"Oh Lay, I'd hate to see us break up!"

"Real talk! I know this is cliché and all but, 'Chelle, what we have is flawless!"

"And I couldn't have said it better, Lay!"

They finally let go and flashed the biggest smiles at each other. Michelle put her hands on Layla's shoulders and said, "Listen, Lay. I got a little something I need to attend to. Meet you by the parking lot later, alright?"

"Alright, 'Chelle. And remember!"

They playfully pointed their fingers at each other and excitedly said in unison, "Stay flawless!"

Michelle gave her best friend a quick hug before parting ways. As the blonde half of Lay-Cool went off to one direction, Layla took the other way to head to the Women's Locker Room. She quickly entered through the door and was determined to get out of her ring gear immediately. As she slipped off her pants, she heard the door open and close but paid no mind to it. It was the Women's Locker Room, after all.

She turned beet-red when she heard a man with a heavy British accent tell her, "Last time I checked, it wasn't my birthday."

Layla scrambled to pull up her pants and turned around to find Wade Barrett's tall, towering figure leaning against the door. She wanted to slap the satisfied smirk off his face. The Layla Show wasn't free for everyone to see.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here? This is the Women's Locker Room!"

Wade's face went from smug to pity, his one eyebrow still raised. He pointed at one of the shelves and asked, "And I suppose that's your Corre shirt, then?"

Layla glanced at the hung-up shirt and in an attempt to save her from embarrassment, she defiantly replied, "Why, yes. Yes, it is!"

She took the black Corre shirt and wore it with pride. It was multiple sizes too big for her but she didn't seem to mind. She put her hands on her hips and her nose in the air. Wade couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle lightly at her blunder. Like a true gentleman, he opened the door for her and showed her the way out.

He said coolly, "Run along now, Miss Layla."

Layla looked down on the floor, defeated. She crossed her arms and pouted her lips.

As she marched through the door, Wade followed up by saying, "You can keep the shirt, too. It looks great on you!"

He let out a hearty laugh as he closed the door of The Corre's locker room shut.


	2. The Rumors

Kelly and Rosa were having a chat in the Women's Locker Room when the door flung open. Layla waltzed into the room, still wearing the oversized Corre shirt over her body and the same pouted lips from before. The chattering dimmed into silence as Kelly and Rosa stopped to stare at their mortified co-worker. Layla figured she had enough stares for one evening.

"Well, why don't you get a move on, then?" she barked at Kelly and Rosa.

The two shrugged it off and returned to their daily gossip. Meanwhile, Layla slumped over to her area of the locker room and pulled out her luggage. She finally took off her shirt and wondered for a while which member of The Corre it belonged to. She shook away the thought and threw the shirt aside. Layla was sure she was in the right locker room this time but out of self-consciousness, she grabbed her casual clothing and hit the showers so no one would dare take another peep at her, even if it was another woman.

Soon enough, she was ready to leave the place and meet up with her best friend, Michelle. She took another look at the black shirt and decided to give it back to Wade, despite him telling her it wasn't necessary. She fixed up her bag and left the room with the shirt hanging over her shoulder. With her nose in the air once more, she walked past Kelly and Rosa with a regained confidence.

However, Wade Barrett was nowhere to be seen when she took a trip back to the mistaken locker room. With the thought of holding on to the shirt for just another day, she turned around and headed to the parking lot. On her way there, Layla spotted Michelle leaning with her back against the wall, fiddling with her phone. When Michelle looked up, she found Layla with a peculiar shirt over her shoulder. Before she could point it out though, Layla was already apologizing profusely.

"I'm so sorry, 'Chelle! It's a long, long story! But I'm here now, so let's go-"

"What's with the shirt, Lay?"

"The what?"

Layla's eyes widened. And then she remembered.

"Oh, this? This shirt? Funny story, actually! I—"

She couldn't continue her sentence. At the corner of her eye, she saw Wade strolling through the parking lot with his fellow Corre members, Heath Slater and Justin Gabriel. They were on their way to the rented car, getting ready to leave the arena. She noticed him take a quick glance at her before loading his luggage into the trunk.

"I could've sworn he just winked at me," she muttered.

"What?"

To save herself from further confusion, Michelle turned to the direction Layla was ogling at and spotted the three Corre members. As a knee-jerk reaction, she went to yank the shirt off of Layla to see for herself.

"'Chelle, give me that back!" Layla pleaded.

When Michelle quickly laid out the shirt in front of her and discovered the logo at the front, she let out a long, overdrawn yet playful gasp. She smirked and threw the shirt back at Layla who caught it immediately.

"You're dating one of them, aren't you?" Michelle inquired.

"No! No, I'm not!"

"Is it Justin? I bet it is. You told me once you had a thing for scruffy guys."

"It's not Justin. It's not Heath. It's not bloody anyone!"

Layla just stood at her spot and watched the guys enter the car. She looked down at the shirt and decided to stuff it into her bag.

"Let's just go. Okay, 'Chelle? I'll tell you more about it later…"


	3. The Realization

"So, you entered the Corre's locker room..."

"And Wade Barrett caught me stripping down to my knickers, yes."

Layla and Michelle were discussing the recent events over dinner at a nearby Japanese restaurant. While Michelle was helping herself to another roll of sushi, Layla was still mulling over what happened. She couldn't help but stare down at her plate, letting her chopsticks roll her food around.

"I gotta tell you, Lay," Michelle started as she stuffed a sushi roll into her mouth. "That's pretty damn stupid."

Layla, accepting the insult, dropped her chopsticks on her plate and buried her face into her hands.

"So bloody stupid!" she cried.

"And you agree?" asked Michelle.

Layla was puzzled. She thought what she did was stupid but now she questioned her own intelligence. Realizing the way the conversation was going, she opened her mouth to speak but her best friend cut right in.

"Fuck. Are you listening to yourself, Lay? I mean, yes, you entered the wrong locker room. Yes, a guy walked in on you while you were changing. But you know what a decent man would've done? He would've gotten out of the room immediately instead of staying in for a free strip show. He then would've knocked politely and told you from behind the door that you were in the wrong locker room."

Layla was embarrassed that Michelle would say all of that aloud in a public family-friendly restaurant but she was starting to piece everything together.

"So, what you're saying is…"

"What I'm saying is you're currently wallowing in self-pity because you taught your mind to think that you were wrong and Wade was right!"

Layla kept quiet. She nodded along in agreement as she listened to her friend's tirade. Michelle exhausted herself from preaching and relaxed for a breather. She closed her eyes and calmly delivered her final words.

"If I were you, I would've gotten so mad at that creep, I wouldn't even bother speaking to him about anything. Anything!"

What Michelle said made sense but Layla faintly replied, "But—"

"But what, Lay? What excuse could you possibly come up for him?"

Layla didn't know either. She didn't know why she protested in the first place. It was a gut feeling that came over her and all she could do was eat her words. She suddenly felt uncomfortable talking about Wade Barrett. Her mind was clouded with unexplainable thoughts. She thought that sharing this confusion with Michelle would probably make matters worse so she chose to keep mum and finally stuffed a sushi roll into her mouth. While Layla was finally gaining an appetite for her dinner, Michelle pulled out her iPhone and scrolled through a couple of messages. She stopped at one intriguing message and tapped Layla on the hand to catch her attention.

Michelle suggested, "If it will help you get your mind off things, we could go clubbing tonight! What do you say, Lay?"

Usually, she wouldn't say no to an offer like that but Layla found herself faced with uncertainty. Questions started to flood her mind. Would she find Wade there? Would she hear any rumors spread about her? Would people start calling her a slut? She closed her eyes and gave it some thought. She felt lost but she thought of getting lost on the dance floor. She thought about meeting someone new to help her clear her mind of certain thoughts. She wanted to seize this opportunity. She opened her eyes and nodded her head as a yes.

"Let's hit the floor, 'Chelle!"


	4. The Encounter at the Bar

They stepped into a nearby local club with the determination to dance all their worries away. The bass was thumping and the environment had a delicate fusion of light and darkness. Strangers and familiar faces were scattered all over the place. While Layla was nodding her head and dancing along in place to the beat of the music in the background, the woman who offered to join her didn't show much enthusiasm. Michelle was still preoccupied with her phone. It took one message for her to break the news to her best friend that she had to leave.

"Lay! I got a text from the husband! I'm sorry, I have to go!" Michelle tried to shout over the loudness of the music.

"Know? Have to know what?" Layla shouted back.

Michelle thought this conversation was nowhere near progression. She encoded a message on her iPhone and showed it to her best friend once she finished. Layla was expectedly dismayed. She pouted her lips and looked at Michelle with sad puppy eyes. The other half of Lay-Cool simply mouthed the words "I'm sorry" and they went for a quick hug before Michelle ultimately exited through the crowd.

Layla thought that this wasn't the plan at all. She felt very alone that night. She proceeded to the quieter portion of the place which was the bar. She thought that if she couldn't dance away her troubles with someone, she might as well drink it away. She observed the crowd like a lost freshman amidst a sea of various college students. The reality of being a part of Lay-Cool was starting to sink in for her. Being Lay-Cool meant making a few enemies and right now, she didn't want to have to deal with the girls that she has humiliated along with Michelle on the show.

She took a seat by the bar and couldn't even bother saying anything else. She put her elbows on the table and her hands to her face and simply looked down. Fortunately for her, a petite Gin & Tonic came her way, courtesy of the thoughtful female bartender behind the counter.

"You look like you needed it," the bartender said as she stuffed a rag into an empty glass to clean it up.

Layla smiled and slightly raised her glass. She felt like she was a part of an American sitcom. She took a sip and returned to sulking. She felt a dark, towering figure approach the seat next to her, not bothering to actually sit down, but she erased the thought of the person being _him_. But she felt a bit curious to have a look at what they looked like.

She took a glance at the person's profile which caused her pupils to dilate. It was Wade Barrett, casually commanding the bartender to mix up a drink for him. Hoping to avoid any eye contact, she quickly turned away and looked down on her drink. While Wade was waiting for his order, he looked both ways and found a familiar face seated right next to him. He amusingly waved his hand in front of her face.

Wade chuckled and struck up a conversation with her, "Well, look what we have here! Miss I-Entered-The-Wrong-Locker-Room!"

Layla cringed at being reminded of what happened. She responded simply by taking a sip from her Gin & Tonic.

"Come on now, Miss Layla, I'm only pissing around! You know that!"

She still couldn't muster up the strength to look up to him. All she could remember was Michelle's somewhat convincing words over dinner.

"You seem gutted over something," said Wade. "Would you like me to give you an Orgasm?"

Silence followed. But it was a different type of silence. Layla couldn't help but be amused by the punch line. She genuinely chuckled and Wade figured he pulled the right strings. He laughed along with her, thinking he succeeded in brushing away her bad vibes that night.

Perhaps Michelle was exaggerating things.


	5. The Memories

A few bottles of beer and cocktails later, Layla and Wade were still exchanging stories at the bar. No one asked if they wanted to dance. They seemed to be perfectly content with being in each other's company. They discussed a wide variety of topics such as football, television shows and politics. They reminded each other so much of home. Layla took a glance at her watch and noticed how fast time has passed. They were so caught up in each other's stories that they seemed to have forgotten about travelling to another town the next day.

"Oh love, I have to get back to the hotel…" she slurred.

"You and I both!" Wade replied with a chuckle. "Come on, I'll take you there."

He helped her off the stool and escorted her through the crowd. They ventured off to the chilly streets and trekked over to their destination which was a few blocks away. They were intoxicated enough to not walk in a straight line but not enough to excrete the alcohol out of their system. Layla was singing in simple syllables which amused Wade. He could handle his alcohol intake but he didn't think the same of her.

He suddenly found Layla snuggling up to him as they walked onward. She put her arm around his waist and he put his arm around her shoulders by instinct. Layla kept quiet so all they could hear is the sound of a few cars roaming the streets late at night. It was a soothing, tranquil night for the both of them. Wade looked down and put his hand on the top of her head and started stroking her hair repeatedly.

"I remember when you were first seen on WWE television," he began. "You were in that Diva Search, weren't you? You had that big, frizzy hair. It even followed your every move. And you gave it quite a difficult time since you were such a livewire in that competition."

He started to chuckle at the memory. He put his arm back around Layla's shoulders and continued, "But it was okay. You defeated those other girls with a flourish. You were stand-out diva. And your hair may have changed now but you're still as beautiful as you were before."

Layla relished that moment. She slightly raised her fist in the air and squeaked, "Yay! I'm a winner!"

She wrapped both of her arms around his waist and looked up to him.

"I'm a winner, like you!" she said to him.

"Oh, stop…."

"Wade Barrett!" she announced in a hushed tone. "The winner of WWE NXT Season One! You were quite the handsome devil, too. Once that Bryan fellow left, you rose to the top spot in a heartbeat! You were so eloquent and aggressive. I think that cute rose added to your gracefulness, as well!"

"That thing? I do recall adding that English rose to my raggedy old coat."

Layla weakly punched him in the arm and said to him, "Why don't you wear it anymore? You should wear it! You would look so flawless with it!"

Wade chuckled at the suggestion. He replied, "All right, then. I'll wear it again. I'll wear it for you."

Layla smiled at the fact that he would even consider following through with that. She hugged his arm and added, "You were such a quality talent in that show."

"Well, I suppose I have my mentor, Chris Jericho, to thank for that."

"No, no! That was all you, love! That was all you in that competition! You're… You're just…"

They stopped a few steps away from the hotel entrance. They stood in front of each other and locked eyes. Wade stroked her hair once more and grinned.

"You're amazing."

Layla finished her previous sentence. She placed her hands on his hips and inched towards him. He went for the kill and bent over to lock lips with Layla. He put his hand on the back of her head and pulled her in closer. She slowly moved her hands from his hips and wrapped her arms around his neck as she kissed him in return. They finally detached from each other, panting and catching their breaths. She gave him one last peck on the lips before they looked down, breathing on each other's necks.

Neither of them knew what came over them. They weren't entirely sure if the alcohol was responsible for their actions. But it was a night they shared unexpectedly and it was definitely worth remembering the day after.


	6. The Hangover

**Author's Note: First of all, I would like to thank those who have responded positively to the story so far! I'd just like to mention that this is my favourite chapter right now and it'd be great if you guys felt the same way. Keep the reviews, favourites and alerts coming! Cheers! (And I'd just like to note that I am not British at all and I apologize if I don't manage to stay true to the culture.)**

Layla's eyelids slowly fluttered open. She had just regained her consciousness after a good night's sleep. Above her was the familiar cream-coloured ceiling of the hotel room. Below her was the soft, white-as-snow mattress. She used the backrest of the bed as leverage for her to rise upright. She could hear the brushing of teeth coming from the other side of the bathroom door. She expected it to be her roommate, Michelle, going through her morning routine. When the door flung open, her heart skipped a beat. Instead of the lanky Michelle McCool, it was the towering Wade Barrett emerging from the bathroom. He seemed to be too busy fixing his things to notice the risen Layla. While his back was turned on her, she watched how his gray wife-beater top was hugging his torso, his curly hair was unruly and his olive green cargo shorts were slightly in disarray. She bit her lower lip out of lust but this feeling was interrupted when she was taken back to the matter at hand— how did she end up sleeping in Wade's room?

The events of last night were a blur to her. She remembered Michelle leaving her in the club. She remembered meeting Wade at the bar. She must've consumed copious amounts of alcohol to even remember anything that happened after that.

"Wade?" she groaned. "What… What happened last night?"

He looked over his shoulder and replied, "Last night? We may have shagged."

Her eyes widened. She went to look under the sheets to check if anything was intact but before she could get a good look, she heard a hearty laugh coming from Wade. She looked up and watched as he went around the bed to get closer to her.

"I'm only joking!" he said with assurance. "You were bloody drunk off your arse and you couldn't recall a single digit of your own room number. So I took you in and let you sleep in my bed while I settled for the sofa over there."

He pointed to the couch found at the opposite side of the bed. Layla was convinced when she noticed the used sheets and pillow lying around the two-seater.

"I am so sorry, Wade!" Layla replied apologetically. "It must've been a rough night for you, having to scrunch up your body to that sort of length!"

Wade could only chuckle. With a grin on his face, he then went to add, "You're adorable."

He sat down by the edge of the bed and looked at Layla intently. He told her, "Much like you, I don't remember much of what happened that fateful night."

He started stroking her hair and added, "But I do remember doing _this_."

Wade bent over to re-enact the same kiss that landed on Layla's lips that night. The moment was coming back to her. In similar fashion, she added passion to the kiss and placed her arms over his shoulder. She remembered how he would fall under the category between aggressive and gentle. His usual, forceful and domineering ways seemed to be neutralized by a milder touch.

After detaching himself from her once more, she grinned and told him, "I do remember this."

Before they could share another moment more, a loud knocking was heard at the door. Wade cringed as he heard the Southern accent behind it. It was Heath Slater.

"You ready get out of there yet?" he yelled.

Wade put his hand over his head and rubbed his temple. He felt that he would rather stay at Layla's side that morning than join his fellow Corre members in the gym. Layla placed her hand on Wade's cheek and give him a reassuring smile.

"It's okay, Wade," she said. "I have to get my things from my room, anyway."

"I'll be back here after an hour or two. I insist you travel with us later!"

"We'll see how things go."

Layla took her hand back and reached for her phone which was located on the nightstand beside the bed. As she searched through her contacts list for Michelle's number, Wade was putting on his rubber shoes. Heath was still knocking on the door which annoyed Wade to no end.

"I'll be out soon, you git! You best quit your knocking!" Wade barked.

He took out an olive green cap from his bag and stuffed his mobile phone into one of his pockets. Meanwhile, Layla had her phone to her ear and waited for Michelle to answer the call. Before Wade left the room, the two smiled and gave a faint wave goodbye before parting ways. A few seconds after the door slammed shut, a voice was heard at the other side of the line.

"Lay?" Michelle asked. "Where are you, Lay?"

"I'm fine, 'Chelle. I'm just in another room. Are you in ours?"

"Yeah, it's just me here. But wait. You're in another room? Whose room is that?"

Michelle was very inquisitive and this rattled Layla. She knew what her best friend felt about the answer. But she had a feeling Michelle would find out the truth eventually. She didn't find the point in lying about it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"It's Wade's. I'm in Wade's room."


	7. The Compromise

When Layla admitted the truth to Michelle, she wanted to end the conversation as soon as possible. She immediately dropped the call. Out of frustration over herself, Layla pulled her body to hit the backrest behind her but she clumsily bumped the back of her head in the process. While moaning in pain and rubbing the back of her head, she slowly made her way out of bed and searched through the hotel room desk for an extra key card. She fortunately found one placed in a small envelope and brought it along with her and her phone.

Now that she was sober, she was able to remember the location of her original hotel room. It was just at the same floor as Wade's. As she wandered through the hall, she thought how stupid it was of her to forget to bring her own key card. She must've thought that she and Michelle would leave the club together so she didn't bother bringing the extra anymore. She stopped by the correct room number and knocked on the door with a bit more grace than Heath's earlier attempt. The door flung open and revealed Michelle. She was far from pleased.

"You have a lot of explaining to do, missy!"

"Oh, 'Chelle! You know I wish I could explain the situation to you properly!" Layla pleaded. "Can we please take this inside?"

Michelle permitted the British diva to enter the room. After closing the door behind her, Layla walked in and noticed how Michelle's stuff was already packed. She figured she could fix her things while attempting to explain to her best friend without revealing too much. She recalled how Wade kept her company while Michelle was away and how they shared a kiss under the moonlight while on their way to the hotel. She told her how Wade assured Layla that they didn't sleep together at all and mentioned his travel invitation before leaving for the gym.

"It sounds like something from the movies," Michelle commented.

"I know! Isn't it romantic?" Layla replied with a dreamy sigh.

"I hate it."

Layla pouted her lips in disappointment. "Why can't you be happy for me, 'Chelle?" she asked.

Michelle shrugged her shoulders. After organizing Layla's clothes in the stroller bag, she said, "I'm glad you think you've found love in the guy but all I'm saying is that Wade's a creep and he's bad news. If anything happens with the two of you, don't come crying to me when your heart breaks into tiny pieces."

Layla twiddled her thumbs and looked down on the floor. She quietly replied, "Thanks for the heads up."

As soon as the bag was all zipped up, they were ready to go. Layla was given time to change her attire, considering how she was still wearing her club outfit from the night before. Michelle carried along her own luggage and Layla soon followed with her own. When they left the room, Layla didn't move an inch further. As Michelle strolled along, Layla left herself behind and stayed on her spot, contemplating on the invitation issued to her by Wade. When Michelle glanced at the side, she noticed how her friend wasn't there anymore. She stopped to turn around and saw Layla still standing by the door.

"Come on, Lay! What's the hold up?" Michelle demanded with her hands attached to her hips.

"I think I'm gonna hitch a ride with him instead!"

Michelle rolled her eyes so far into her head that at one point, she started channelling The Undertaker. Instead of reacting angrily, Michelle took a deep breath and calmly walked up to her best friend.

She lowered her tone and told her, "Fine. Ride with Wade Barrett or The Corre or whatever. Hang around him as much as you'd like, I don't care. But I have a match with Beth Phoenix next week on SmackDown! and I'd like it if my 'best friend' was out there for me at ringside."

Layla smiled and nodded in reply. She went to add, "'Chelle! You know I'll be there for you! You don't even have to ask! What are besties for, right?"

"Yeah, sure. Besties. But can you pinky swear on it?"

It seemed juvenile but Michelle still held up her pinky finger. Layla was able to appreciate the child-like whimsy of their friendship and hooked Michelle's finger with her own. They smiled at each other but the warmth of their usual grins has mellowed. The Southern belle walked away with her luggage while the British beauty returned to Wade's room with her own.

An hour later, the Englishman had returned to his quarters. He was pleased to see Layla in the room, looking more presentable now than before. He was slightly embarrassed to be drenched in sweat around her but she didn't seem to mind.

She gave him a warm smile and said, "Ready when you are, love."

He grabbed a towel from his bag and flung it over his broad shoulder. With the confident smirk back on his face, he replied, "Fantastic. I'll make this quick."

As Wade entered the bathroom, Layla was thinking of how she was able to strike a balance between her friendship with Michelle and her relationship with Wade. She just had to solidify her allegiance by making an appearance on the blue show next week. When her train of thought left the station, she found it odd that Wade would leave the door ajar. To satisfy her curiosity, she slyly positioned herself near the slit and took a peek inside. The mirror was in her line of vision and it reflected the frosted glass wall of the shower. She could only see a blurry image of Wade's animated body coming from the mirror's line of sight. It was like playing a game of The Sims and waiting for the person to finish using the shower. She started to slide down her fingers from her midsection until she was suddenly rattled by the mere mention of her name.

"Layla?"

Out of panic, she made herself busy with whatever was on the desk near her. She blushed uncontrollably and closed her eyes.

"Yes, Wade?"

"Could you please fix my things while you're out there? So you don't have to wait so long? Cheers!"

Layla heaved a sigh of relief.


	8. The Relationship

The bags were all packed and ready. Layla laid out a set of clothes on the bed for her boyfriend to wear. Boyfriend? She, too, was puzzled. She wasn't entirely sure of what exactly it is she's sharing with Wade Barrett. She enjoyed his company and she felt he was on the same boat. Instead of dwelling on a label for their relationship, she shook away the thoughts and remembered the present. She left a note on the outfit and left the room with both of their bags. She waited outside the room and stood idly by.

At the corner of her eye, she saw Justin Gabriel and Heath Slater locking their hotel room door. They were approaching Wade's room. When they saw Layla standing outside, their reception of her wasn't very warm. Before they could get a chance to interrogate her, Wade emerged from the room, fixing the collar of his shirt with one hand and holding a set of keys with the other. He tossed the keys at Heath and took his bag from Layla.

"Gentlemen, let's proceed," Wade announced. "Layla, come with me."

He and Layla went ahead of the other two. As they reached their rental car at the parking lot and finished loading their bag, Justin made his way to the back seat door until Wade shooed him off.

"Not this time, Justin," he said. "You sit at the front with Heath."

"But I always sit at the back!" Justin protested.

"And you're starting to piss me off," Wade replied. "Move."

Justin sighed and accepted defeat. He slid into the passenger seat while Wade motioned for Layla to sit at the back with him. She felt reluctant about this decision, thinking it would give her a bad reputation with his friends. Then she thought of his commanding presence over his members and suddenly felt protected by him. She gladly joined Wade at the back.

The trip was a long one. The whole time they were in the car, Heath and Justin had to endure Layla's talkative nature and the numerous British colloquialisms they exchanged. The two Corre members looked at each other, irritated by the sudden change in environment. They both hoped she wasn't a permanent fixture in their travels. Justin couldn't even turn the volume of the radio up without Wade complaining of its loudness. This setting went on for one long week. As Wade and Layla grew happier, Heath and Justin were borderline psychotic.

At the next SmackDown! taping, Wade and Layla were staying in The Corre's private locker room. Wade sat down on the bench, lacing up his boots for his upcoming match. Meanwhile, Layla, who didn't have a match scheduled that evening, decided to wear a little black dress. She checked herself in front of the full-body mirror. She fixed her hair and acted like she was in the middle of a photo shoot, giving away various poses for the imaginary cameraman. Soon, she settled down and placed her hands on her hips. Wade rose from his seat and wrapped his arms around the British diva's shoulders. They were both looking at their reflection in the mirror. He started landing soft kisses on her neck which she thoroughly enjoyed.

"Don't you have a match next, love?" asked Layla.

"I am aware," he answered, moving his lips to her bare shoulder.

"Shouldn't you be stretching or warming up for it?"

"But then I wouldn't have you in my arms."

He revealed a smirk on his face. He couldn't properly contain his libido anymore. While he was kissing Layla by her neck, he started moving his hands from her shoulders to her waist, caressing her curves in the process. Her own hands guided the way for him and she slipped his hands beneath the laced rim of her dress to eliminate the presence of the fabric between their nerve endings. When she felt his hand moving into her underwear, she held a tighter grip on his arms as a knee-jerk reaction. She didn't feel ready for this invasion. She internally struggled between the choice of stopping and pushing through with the sinful deed. Before his fingers could pull her trigger however, she quickly pulled his hands off and herself away from him. She sprinted to her bag, leaving Wade standing in front of the mirror and hanging his head in disappointment.

"Close your eyes, love!" Layla ordered. "I have a surprise for you!"

Wade shrugged his shoulders and followed suit. He had secretly hoped that the surprise would be Layla taking off her dress. He then felt warmer, as if something was hung over his shoulders.

"Now open!"

His eyelids fluttered open. He found himself wearing a black coat like he used to do on NXT. A red English rose was peeking out of its pocket. He grinned from the nostalgia it brought to him.

"I bought this for you while you were out for an autograph signing session. I even put a rose of my favourite colour so you can show that you're thinking of me while you're out there in the ring! What do you think?"

He grinned at himself in mirror and replied, "I think it's brilliant."

Before they could share another moment alone, the rest of The Corre walked into the locker room. Justin, Heath and Ezekiel all stood in a line and ogled at Wade and his peculiar coat with a look of horror in their faces.

Ezekiel broke the silence and commented, "You're kidding us, right?"


	9. The Nuclear Corre

The closed door kept all the tension in The Corre private locker room. The three members that have just entered, wearing their shirts, found their selves aggravated by the coat worn by Wade Barrett. Standing behind the founding member was Layla, frightened by the menacing glares of the other members of The Corre. He motioned for her to take a few steps back and sit down on the bench which she followed.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" he inquired.

Heath, Justin and Ezekiel looked at each other, waiting for someone to speak for three of them. When they all made a mental agreement, they turned their attention back to the Englishman.

"Wade, man," Zeke began. "You're not really gonna wear that coat out there, are you?"

Heath then went to add, "You said it yourself. Here in The Corre, we're all equals. There is no leader."

"What we're saying is," Justin continued. "When you make yourself stand out with that coat while we're just here in our uniformed shirts, then the coat just screams leader."

Wade turned his head to Layla who showed signs of regret over her decision to buy a coat for him and even telling him to wear the coat with the rose for personal reasons. She bit her lip and hung her head in shame. She looked up at Wade and nodded at him, giving a signal for him to forget what he heard before the rest of The Corre barged in. He responded by gently taking the coat off his shoulders and hung it over his forearm.

"Duly noted," Wade declared. "If that's your only issue in this group, then I would personally say it's much ado about nothing."

The Englishman let out a small chuckle, hoping his fellow members would follow suit. He observed the uncertainty in their faces and contorted his face with a hint of irritation and concern.

"Ever since you've been hanging around with Layla here," Justin started. "We've noticed you've been acting differently from when we first worked with you in Nexus."

"Instead of using your bossy-pants attitude in advancing the group, you've been using it to treat us like crap so you and Yoko here could have the time of your lives!" Heath protested.

Layla's eyes widened. Regardless of what anyone thought of her, being the woman who was considered to be the reason behind the break-up of Britain's best four-man export was considered an insult. Wade closed his eyes, shook his head and put his hands to his waist.

Wade explained, "You do realize that by accusing her of being Yoko, you're admitting that I'm the John Lennon of The Corre? The main songwriter? The most frequent lead vocalist? The founding member of quite possibly the most brilliant band of men the industry has ever seen?"

"Just because you're the founding member of the group doesn't mean you're the leader," Ezekiel muttered.

"I'm sorry," Wade retorted. "Did you say something, Ringo?"

"Hey, at least I'm still alive!"

The Englishman stared daggers at Ezekiel Jackson. He was tempted to put his bare-knuckle fighting experience to use. He held up his fists and charged at him but Justin went in between and prevented a scuffle from happening. Layla was still at the side, hoping no fists were going to fly at that moment.

"What's it to you all that I fancy Layla?" Wade raised his voice. "She hasn't personally harmed any of you now, has she?"

The three didn't react. They simply stood in place and waited for some type of action to follow.

"From what I can understand from you lot, your problem really isn't Layla," he continued. "It's me. It has always been me, hasn't it? Well, let's see how Rome will function without Julius Caesar."

He took a shirt from the top shelf and threw it in front of their feet.

"As of this moment, The Corre is officially disbanded!" Wade announced.

Layla was getting more traumatized by the minute. She clapped her hand over her mouth out of shock. Wade pointed at the door and glared at his former team mates.

"I would appreciate it if you would all leave the locker room. The same locker room that I single-handedly fought for and won a year back! And keep this in mind, gentlemen. It was the winner of the first season of NXT that made sure you all had a home in this company. Now that you don't have that winner with you anymore, then the best of British luck to you lot in finding a new home."

After sitting through Wade's tirade, Justin threw his hands up in defeat and sighed. He nodded at the other two members and urged them to leave the room. Ezekiel was the last man to leave the room. He slammed the door behind him shut with so much force that he caused the poster frames in the room to shake in its place. Wade let out a heavy sigh. He turned around and spotted Layla, staring blankly into space out of bewilderment over what transpired.

"I'm terribly sorry you had to witness that, love."

"Wade," she replied. "Am I Yoko?"

"What? No! No one's Yoko!"

He walked towards Layla and pulled her up from her seat by her shoulders. He wrapped his arms around Layla and stroked her soft hair. No tears fell from her eyes but she enjoyed being surrounded by the warmth of Wade's embrace. He eventually had to let her go. He put his new coat over his shoulders and extended his hand, reaching out to the British beauty.

"If I may… Shall you accompany me now to my match, my lady?"

Layla cracked a smile and demurely placed her hand in his. They exited the locker room, holding hands and wearing faces that didn't reveal any of their troubles. As they headed to the gorilla position however, a familiar female figure emerged through the curtains, rubbing the back of her head to ease the pain. It finally dawned on Layla that she broke her promise to her best friend, Michelle. Her fear caused her to hold a tighter grip on Wade's hand. Michelle caught the two and went into a fit of rage.

"You… little… _bitch!_"


	10. The Confrontation

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" Wade inquired.

He watched Michelle and Layla stare down at each other, unaware of the history between the two. Layla's lip quivered and held on to the Englishman's arm for added security. Michelle snapped back at Wade.

"I'll tell you what the _bloody hell_ is going on here!" she replied mockingly. "Layla here was supposed to accompany me at ringside in my match against Beth."

"Michelle, I didn't—"

"The agents and I were looking all over for you before the match but we ran out of time so I had to go out there on my own. We couldn't do the spot where you were supposed to distract the ref so I could scoop up Beth for a pinfall. Instead, I had to take the fall and ended up getting Glam Slammed."

"But I didn't mean to—"

"I didn't think you were going to blow me off to be with your British beau right here because I thought you were such a good friend. I was thinking 'Layla would never do that!' But I thought wrong. I was so wrong! You would actually stoop that low! You chose Wade freaking Barrett over our friendship! You would actually break a freaking pinky swear to go canoodling with him, you British slut!"

The tension was building up in Layla. She let out an ear-piercing scream and charged at Michelle, pushing Wade back in the process but he was steady at his feet. She sent a flurry of punches to Michelle's skull until she was pulled off just in time by Wade. She was kicking and screaming, requesting to be released from his hold. Michelle held her jaw and winced at the pain but she didn't think their encounter was over. As soon as Layla was out of Wade's hands, Michelle took her down with a spear, grabbed Layla by the hair and pulled her head back and forth on the concrete floor. Layla retaliated by pushing her off and mounting her at the torso but the Southern diva was quick enough to reverse it in a similar manner. As the two rolled around the floor, they were pulling each other's hair and clawing at each other's faces.

A crowd of superstars, divas and backstage crew members started to gather at the scene. Nothing spiced up a day at the workplace better than a catfight. And just to make things more interesting, Michelle treated it like a "Bra and Panties" match. When she landed a stiff right hand on Layla's skull, she tugged at Layla's strappy dress and pulled it so forcefully, the straps broke off. She revealed Layla's lacy undergarments for everyone to see. When The Undertaker arrived, the crowd parted like the Red Sea to allow the intervention of the leader of the SmackDown! locker room. As the Deadman approached Michelle and attempted to calm her down, Wade took off his coat and wrapped it around Layla's vulnerable body. Tears were pouring down her soft cheeks. She buried her face into Wade's bare chest and did not dare look at her best friend in the eyes.

"Hey Wade!" Michelle called out. He looked up in response.

"Are you happy now, Wade? You finally got to take a look at Layla in all her glory! And to think, I was actually protecting her from you. I didn't want you to manipulate her the same way you did with everyone else in this locker room. But she insisted on throwing herself onto you and I just can't have that. I just can't have someone choose their boyfriend over their best friend! I mean, you'd hate it too, right? How would you feel if you lost your title because The Corre chose to stay backstage instead of helping you retain it?"

Despite what happened with The Corre earlier that night, Wade silently agreed with Michelle.

She went to continue, "I felt so betrayed when she chose to travel with you over me but I let it slide. I gave you guys some time. But when she promised to be there for me at ringside and she wasn't around, it just crossed the line for me, buddy! So thanks, Wade. Thanks for exposing her for what she really is."

The Undertaker has heard enough. He prevented her from performing another physical attack by stepping in front of her and blocking her view of Layla. While Michelle struggled in the Deadman's shadow, she starting shouting, "You're nothing without Lay-Cool, Layla! You understand that? Without me, you're just going to be another Diva Search, jobbing whore!"

Michelle broke free from his arms and threw the black dress at Wade and Layla. She stormed off the scene, adding, "Say goodbye to your push!"

The Undertaker watched Michelle walk away and turned his attention to Layla and Wade. The Englishman was still attending to his girlfriend, trying to calm her down and assuring her that all was not lost. The Deadman scanned the faces of the people that gathered. He didn't want to make the scene bigger than it already was.

"Leave," he declared authoritatively. "I don't want to hear any more of this."

With his awesome power over his co-workers in effect, the crowd started to disperse and each person returned to their station as if nothing happened. The Undertaker locked eyes with Wade Barrett and tipped his hat sympathetically and apologetically before leaving the area. But as everyone left, murmurs of what had transpired could still be heard. There was a mixed reaction in the locker room. Many believed Layla deserved to be berated in such a manner while others thought Michelle was too harsh on her other half. No matter what the opinion was, everyone deserted the scene and left Wade and Layla standing alone in the backstage area. The British beauty was still sobbing hard. A road agent arrived to remind Wade that his match was next but the Englishman had all of his attention on Layla. Normally, he would've asked The Corre to watch over her but that wasn't the case anymore. They only had each other now.


	11. The Decision

After witnessing the intense scuffle between Layla and Michelle, Wade didn't want to expose the crying Layla to the WWE Universe. He didn't want to refuse a pay check by not appearing in his match but he didn't want to leave her alone either. He looked for an innocent passerby to accompany Layla in his locker room and fortunately found Beth Phoenix.

"Beth," he called. "Would you please stay with Layla? I shouldn't be out for long."

The Glamazon stared at Layla with a look of pity and solemnly nodded in compliance. She wrapped an arm around her shoulders and escorted her to the private locker room that formerly belonged to The Corre but was now in Wade Barrett's possession. Meanwhile, the Englishman headed to the gorilla position, clouding his mind with thoughts of concern over Layla.

While Wade was competing with Kofi Kingston, Beth was watching Layla search through her bag for a new set of clothes. The tears have stopped flowing but the heavy feeling in her heart was still there.

"I'm sorry for what happened earlier, Layla. You didn't deserve any of that," Beth apologized.

Layla warmly smiled, holding up a pink and a purple top for her to choose. The Glamazon pointed at the purple tank top which Layla set aside to wear.

"It wasn't your fault, Beth," she replied. She wiped a tear from her own eye and pulled out a pair of skinny jeans from her luggage.

"Wade's a good man, Layla," Beth commented. "I don't know much of your situation but the way he tried to protect you and how concerned he was for you when he approached me earlier… The guy's got balls. You made a wise decision by choosing him over Michelle."

"But Beth," Layla protested, her jeans now covering the lower part of her body. "I didn't really choose Wade. I love my career and my best friend. Michelle's right. Without her, I'm just plain Layla: Jobber to the Divas."

The Glamazon shook her head and patted Layla on her shoulder.

"Look, if you care for Michelle that much – which I doubt – then you should try to grovel at her feet and admit to her that she's right. It'll be a big boost to her ego," Beth replied and rolled her eyes. "But I'm telling you, you don't have to go through all of that. She's just lying to make Wade look like the bad guy when he really isn't. I mean, have you ever felt manipulated by him?"

Layla slowly shook her head.

"That's what I thought," Beth concluded. While Layla was putting on her top and covering her arms with a jacket, Beth started to interrogate her.

"Did you guys have sex already?"

"Not yet."

"Does he want to?"

"I think so."

"Do you let him?"

"Well, not really."

"Do you want to?"

"Oh Beth! You have no clue! When he was taking a shower in the hotel, all I could see was a blurry reflection of him in the mirror but I still couldn't control myself!"

Beth chuckled, amused at her response.

"You guys had a rough night tonight; I think you deserve each other's touch," she suggested. Layla's cheeks went red. A knock was heard at the door, followed by a deep British accent.

"May I enter my locker room?" he asked.

Layla was deeply touched by this small gesture. When she first encountered Wade Barrett, the man entered the locker room unannounced while she was changing from her ring gear. To hear him knock on the door was music to her ears. She nodded energetically at Beth with a massive smile on her face.

"She's all yours, Wade," Beth answered. She opened the door and allowed him to enter. Before she left the two alone, she playfully winked at Layla who gave a thumb up in response.

"Where shall we have dinner, love?" Wade asked. "You deserve to be treated like a queen after what happened to you tonight."

"Let's just order room service tonight," she responded with a sly smirk on her face.

Later that night, the two were found kissing passionately in their hotel room. Their clothes were lying around the floor but their undergarments were still intact. Layla mounted herself on top of Wade and pulled him in closer with her hands on the back of his head while he placed his own hands on her hips to keep her balance. When they paused for a breather, Layla went unhook the clasp of her bra. Wade was impressed at how comfortable she was around him now after she refused his advances earlier that night. The change of heart puzzled him but he had no intention of questioning her. Before they could kiss again, Wade spoke up.

"You know, Layla, I can be quite blunt with other people but with you, it's different. It's not easy for me to say this but…"

Layla hushed him down and placed a finger to his lips.

"I love you, too, Wade," she said with a smile.

She removed her finger and replaced it with her own lips. She started landing soft kisses to his neck and made short comments in between.

"I'm so lucky… to have such a caring… respectful… thoughtful… honest man."

"That's the thing, love," he said regretfully. "I haven't been totally honest with you."

The kisses stopped. Layla was intrigued by this statement. She pulled herself up and looked at him with confusion. Wade started to explain himself with a tone of reluctance in his voice.

"On that night we first kissed, I told you that you were so drunk, that you couldn't remember your room number. Well, you did remember but you couldn't find the key card."

"So, you lied… It's fine. I must've forgotten it, then."

"There's a reason why you couldn't find your key card and it's not because you forgot, love. I kept it. I returned it to the receptionist when I went down for a trip to the gym."

"But, we didn't have sex, right?"

Wade was silent.

"Right?"

He hung his head in shame. His silence caused her heart to sink. Disappointed, she glumly dismounted him and seated herself at the edge of the bed. She expressed her desire to completely surrender her body to him but the circumstances at hand caused her to repress her libido.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I don't want you to feel manipulated anymore. If you choose to end whatever we have in favour of tagging alongside Michelle and living a prosperous career, then I'll let you be. Don't worry about me. But if you're willing to forgive me for my web of lies and stay with me, then that's quite good as well."

Layla was tired of standing at the crossroads, having to choose between two paths. She played with the possibility of a third path opening up for her. She has mentally done everything she could to help her make a decision but her choice blew up all over her face. She has tried making compromises but they all ended badly. She didn't want to deal with these consequences anymore. Her heart was racing. Her tears started to escape her eyes.

"I quit, Wade," she declared. "I don't want to stay in the WWE any longer."


	12. The Plan of Action

That night, Wade scrunched himself into the hotel sofa once more and allowed Layla to remain in the queen-sized bed. Neither he nor Layla could sleep properly. They were still mulling over the bombshell of a decision that the British beauty dropped beforehand. The morning after, they were mostly silent. Their relationship with each other still existed but with Layla's intention of leaving the company that brought them together in the first place, their very status as a couple was in great jeopardy. Wade was able to convince Layla to give herself a week before finalizing her decision but as the days passed, her certainty became stronger.

At the next SmackDown! taping, Layla arrived with Wade and carried around her luggage in one hand and her resignation letter in another. Wade gently placed his hand on her shoulder to calm her nerves.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, perhaps for the millionth time.

She replied with a faint nod before leaving him behind. Defeated, Wade retired to his private locker room. He changed into his ring gear and checked himself in the full body mirror. He looked closely at his reflection and noticed a raggedy black coat lying on the bench behind him. A red rose was pinned to its lapel. He marched over to the coat and laid it out in front of him.

"I've already lost The Corre," he said to himself. "I won't lose you either."

Wade placed the coat over his broad shoulders and rushed out of the room. He stopped in front of a door and knocked on it hurriedly. It flung open to reveal Michelle. Upon laying her eyes on the Englishman, she rolled her eyes and let out an irritated sigh.

"Layla's not here," she said.

"That's because she's quitting the WWE!"

Michelle's eyes widened.

"Wait, she's quitting?" she inquired. "And she told you and not me?"

"After acting like a total twat to her last week and literally stripping her of her dignity, you're surprised she wouldn't tell you anything?"

Wade didn't seem to regret his words and Michelle didn't want to look affected by his insult. The two simply glared at each other.

"What do you want, Barrett?"

"Help me convince Layla to stay."

"Why? So you can control her with your Hugh Grant British charm and have your way with her? Look, I know what happened that night, Barrett. The whole goddamn floor at the hotel heard you. And you were able to convince Layla that you guys didn't do it? Real smooth, Barrett, you manipulative scum."

Wade simply shook his head and chuckled.

"Bloody hell, woman. Aren't you the pot calling the kettle black?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're just as manipulative as I am. You have been toying with Layla's mind for the past few weeks. Apparently, you've been talking rubbish against me so she wouldn't have to end up spending so much time with me when we both know you're afraid of being left behind."

"Fine, Wade! You're right!" Michelle retorted, fighting back tears. "So I don't want to be left behind. Who does, really? You can't blame me for acting this way!"

"You can't blame Layla either! I believe you two were inseparable inside and out the ring but Layla's been telling me you've been leaving her alone for your husband ever since you got married. She's been so loyal to you yet you have no qualms on treating her like absolute shite."

Michelle stood silent. She had nothing to say as a comeback.

"Let's face the facts, Michelle. We have both been manipulative to Layla," Wade continued. "But the difference between you and me is that I've grown to care for the woman and treated her like a queen while you've never made her feel important to you in her whole career."

Wade took Michelle's hands and brought them closer to him. She looked up at him with a skeptical look on her face.

"But you can still change that. I know you enjoyed Layla's company and you must've found potential in her to convince you to form Lay-Cool. So please, help me convince Layla that she's making a huge mistake by leaving us like this!"

Michelle shook him off and pointed her finger at his chest.

"Alright," she replied. "But I'm not doing this for you, you big creepy bastard. I'm doing this for my girl, Lay. She still deserves better."

She proceeded to walk ahead of him in their search for Layla. He followed her with a smirk and muttered under his breath, "Likewise, you withering slag."


	13. The Resolution

**Author's Note: Well, it's the final stretch. I want to give my thanks to those who have added me to their Author Alert list, those who added this story to their favourites and those who have left nothing but kind reviews for the story. Even if you didn't do all of the above, thanks for taking the time to read through this whole thing. The interest of the reader fuels me to push through with this crazy story.**

Layla was searching through the arena for the nearest authority figure she could find. For some reason unknown to her, she chose to lug around her bag during this long-winded journey. She ended up looking like a lost tourist at a foreign airport. The office door of Theodore Long was finally within her range, the blue-and-white SmackDown! logo was plastered over the varnished wood. Before she could knock on the door, a Southern accent interrupted her. It wasn't the same accent she was used to. It was a bit rough, dark and ominous.

"So a lost soul has come to dig her own grave." he said.

Layla stopped to look for the source of the sound. She turned around and found The Undertaker, standing tall in the middle of the hallway. Nobody else was in the vicinity

"I tried to make ends meet," she replied. "But I've only caused more problems! I think it's better for me to leave."

The Deadman didn't move from his place. He simply shook his head in disagreement.

"You'd only be causing more problems," he pointed out.

"Is… is that selfish?" Layla asked with much reluctance.

"After handing out that letter and leaving this arena, you would be leaving behind a woman who falls flat by herself and a man who is left without a stable, without companions to rely on."

Layla was not following The Undertaker. She continued to protest.

"But 'Chelle blew a fuse when I made a small, teensy-weensy mistake and stripped me down to my knickers!"

"Who attacked first?"

Layla didn't want to admit it but she didn't want to hide the truth from the Deadman. She bit into her thumb nail and reluctantly blurted out, "I did."

The Undertaker shook his head once more with a light chuckle accompanying it.

"Emotions are the heavy crosses humans have to carry. The most insane act an individual can perform could be the sanest thought that person could think of. Your heart was telling you that you were being repressed when you were really being protected. You were emotionally provoked by Michelle's words so you were simply driven by pent up, extreme rage and given the nature of this industry you entered; wouldn't you say it's natural?"

"I suppose," she replied. "But what about Wade? He lied to me! He made me believe I could feel safe around him."

"And safe you felt."

Layla recalled the moment a black coat was wrapped around her. She remembered looking up and watching Wade meet eyes with Michelle and The Undertaker.

"Deception is man's personal catalyst. He decides to hide the ugly truth to choose a path he feels is best for him, mostly because he's afraid of the consequences that follow. Even lies have the most genuine motives behind them."

"Do you think he really loves me?"

"It's not in my place to judge."

The Deadman brought a red rose from the inner pocket of his coat and brought it to Layla.

"A rose living only by itself will lose its many petals. I know when a gentle, lost soul needs proper guidance before they eternally damn themselves to a personal hell they could only imagine," he continued.

Solemnly, Layla looked down at her resignation letter and the rose given to her. The Undertaker's words struck her heart and stayed in her mind. She seemed to have another question for the Deadman but when she looked back up, the Phenom was out of sight. She was puzzled by his appearance and disappearance but her mind was starting to clear. She was left in such a daze that she didn't get to react immediately to the calling of her name by Wade Barrett and Michelle McCool who were running behind her.

"Lay!" Michelle called out. "Don't do this to us, Lay!"

"You're leaving a gaping hole in our lives by quitting!" Wade followed.

The two seemed like they were out-performing each other in a contest determining who can successfully convince Layla to stay. The British beauty could only turn around and observe their looks of desperation. She decided to drop her letter to the ground and run up to her best friend and boyfriend to wrap her arms around them. They were equally confused by the suddenness of her actions but they seemed to show no complaints.

"I was this close to getting damned to a personal hell!" Layla exclaimed.

The exclamation was then followed by a quick silence.

"Pardon?" Wade inquired.

When Layla looked up at the rose pinned to the lapel of Wade's coat, she became rather excited and focused her embrace on the confused Barrett.

"I apologize profusely for what I said last week. I was a bloody wanker for lying to you in the first place."

"You love me!" she squealed. "Baby, you do love me!"

"And that's a truth I will never hide."

Layla nodded along with a beaming smile on her face. Wade grinned and kissed her on the forehead. As Michelle watched this display of affection, she felt unneeded and decided to sneak off the scene. When the brunette half of Lay-Cool noticed her disappearance, she decided to run up to Michelle and warmly embraced her.

"Lay," Michelle said. "I've been horrible to you. Not just last week but the whole time we've been together. I can't believe you could still greet me with your warmest smile."

The British beauty handed the Southern belle the red rose and placed her hands at her back.

"A certain someone told me earlier that a rose living only by itself would lose all its petals," she said. "I don't want to lose you, 'Chelle! When we're together, we may have thorns at our sides but we bloom with so much beauty that we end up looking…"

"Flawless!" they exclaimed in unison. They shared an enthusiastic laugh and engaged in another hug.

"Hey 'Chelle, I hope you don't mind," Layla said as they let each other go. "Wade and I are going out tonight. Supposedly, it was going to be our last supper but thank God, that doesn't seem to be the case anymore. Would you like to join us?"

Michelle looked at Wade and back at Layla. Admittedly, she still didn't like the Englishman and she could feel he didn't want her around either. Unfortunately for Layla, she had to deal with this conflict. After taking a whiff from the rose, Michelle slowly shook her head with a grin on her face.

"You two lovebirds can go ahead. I have something else special in mind, anyway," she replied.

Layla smiled, pleased at the resolution. She skipped over to Wade Barrett and they left the hallway together with their arms linked like a chain. Meanwhile, Michelle turned the opposite way, observing the red rose with her sense of smell. When she looked up, she saw The Undertaker, standing in front of her. Michelle smiled and walked onward, side by side with the Deadman.


End file.
